


This Is The End

by burymeinziam



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, Infidelity, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 06:03:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burymeinziam/pseuds/burymeinziam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And Liam is rushing forward, pulling Zayn against his chest in a tight, one-armed, hug. Zayn’s eyes close for the short moment the hug actually lasts. He draws in a deep breath and soaks in the sweet scent that has always been so very Liam and allows it to course through his veins causing all sorts of familiar feelings to come back to life and even though they are all fleeting and short lived, they still conjure up a wild, untamed array of butterflies in his stomach. It amazes him that Liam still has the ability to do that and then it doesn’t because this is Liam and Liam has always been both Zayn’s biggest accomplishment and largest failure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Is The End

“Zayn…?”

The voice reaching out for him from behind is hesitant although Zayn isn’t sure if it’s caused by surprise or insecurity. He closes his eyes, swearing silently to himself. He hadn’t managed invisibility as well as he’d hoped to as he passed by but, then again, he could have taken several detours on his way home and remained unseen so maybe this was his subconscious attempting to tell him something.

He turns around, praying that his expression reads blankly surprised rather than unabashedly embarrassed and, thankfully, that isn’t so hard because Zayn hasn’t seen Liam in years and the mere sight of him still manages to take his breath away.

He’s wearing a black pea coat with a navy blue scarf wrapped around his neck. The scarf seemed really last minute; like it was something Liam had just grabbed as an afterthought as he walked out the front door and the sheer domesticity of it made Zayn’s heart swell and ache because he could see himself, seven years earlier, wrapping the scarf around Liam’s neck as they left the studio or handing it to him as they climbed off their tour bus.

Only minutes earlier, Zayn had seen Liam running through the park, zigzagging between frozen swing sets and merry-go-rounds, tiny bits of snow following his feet and sticking to the bottom of his jeans making the deep blue of the denim appear icy and white. But, in that moment, Liam didn’t seem to care and kept chasing after the little girl running ahead of him. She was screaming loudly, her voice full of joy and laughter, repeatedly looking over her shoulder and laughing even harder whenever Liam pretended to hide behind one of the trees or the slide at the center of the playground.

Zayn had watched them as he cut through the snow on his way home. He followed their movements ignoring the snowflakes that tore through the air and clouded his lashes all the while managing to keep a safe distance in order to refrain from looking like some sort of a stalker. The pieces start to fit together once he sees the man sitting at one of the benches. Zayn recognized him as Liam’s sister’s boyfriend; his then pregnant sister.

The entire scene being played out before them suddenly fit the time that had passed all too well. Liam had been so excited about becoming an uncle, had kept Zayn up all night talking about what he would do once his little niece or nephew was born. As much as he sometimes hated to admit it, Zayn missed those late nights with Liam when they would stay up and cloud the room with soft whispers and feather light touches. Thinking about those times only brought on an ache deep in his chest though and brought Zayn to a door in his mind that he always dreaded opening.

But he always did; always.

Either way, door open or closed, Liam is no longer running around the playground. He’s standing right there in front Zayn, frosted and cold like some sort of snow angel who had dropped down from heaven just to make Zayn’s heart break all over again. Zayn’s name is still on lips mingling with the snowflakes that had taken residence on Liam’s skin and contrasting beautifully against the frosty pink that has blossomed on his cheeks. Zayn wants nothing more than to reach out and brush the snow from his skin, maybe allow his fingertips to linger just a little longer than necessary. 

Liam Payne. Six, nearly seven, years have passed since the last time they’d seen each other but he looks exactly the same. He may even be happier than he had been before. At that thought, a painful sting suddenly catches in Zayn’s throat as if he’s taken a big, unprepared bite out of the winter cold and swallowed it whole.

“Oh, God, Zayn!”

And Liam is rushing forward, pulling Zayn against his chest in a tight, one-armed, hug. Zayn’s eyes close for the short moment the hug actually lasts. He draws in a deep breath and soaks in the sweet scent that has always been so very Liam and allows it to course through his veins causing all sorts of familiar feelings to come back to life and even though they are all fleeting and short lived, they still conjure up a wild, untamed array of butterflies in his stomach. It amazes him that Liam still has the ability to do that and then it doesn’t because this is Liam and Liam has always been both Zayn’s biggest accomplishment and largest failure.

“I just… I can’t believe it’s you,” Liam’s saying and his smile is so big and genuine as he steps back to take in Zayn’s appearance. He cocks his head to the side and simply smiles and Zayn’s heart is crumbling all over because Liam is so breathtakingly beautiful and he probably still doesn’t even know it. “How long has it been though? Four? Five years?”

Zayn clears his throat. “About seven, actually.” He adds a half smile and a shrug as his heart sinks even further, like a leaf abandoned in the wind and slowly, but surely, losing the power of flotation. It’s obvious that the time hadn’t passed for Liam the way it had for Zayn.

“Has it really been that long?” Liam asks in a disbelieving tone as he reaches up to ruffle his hair. “Wow… time flies, huh?”

“Sure as hell does.” Zayn nods, tries to add a light outburst of laughter. He’s trying, almost desperately, to fake something positive; something that could hide the hurt that feels so obvious under his own skin.

“You haven’t changed one bit,” Liam notes curiously as he, once again, takes in Zayn’s appearance.

“Says the one who never seems to age,” Zayn replies and then, before he can stop himself. “You look good, Liam. Really good.” He wants to add gorgeous to the end of his sentence but he stops himself before the word can slip past his lips.

Liam’s mouth curls into a tiny, slightly embarrassed smile and Zayn could really throw himself off of a cliff because Liam doesn’t even know. He has no fucking clue and Zayn isn’t sure if that makes him feel a sense of relief or if it breaks him even further because Liam really doesn’t really know him as well as he used to.

“So… how’ve you been?” Liam asks, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat.

“Lately? Well, lately I’ve been doing just fine.” Zayn shrugs again to have something to go with his standard, subpar reply. “As for the last seven years… let’s just say, if I could fit all of that into one sentence then I’m a fucking wizard.”

Liam is quiet and, for a brief moment, Zayn is afraid he’s somehow offended him; that he’d been too much of a smartass and Liam had also managed to forget Zayn’s demeanor as well. But then Liam is laughing and shaking his head and Zayn can let out a short breath of relief.

“Oh right. Of course.” Liam is blushing now and it’s causing Zayn’s chest to grow impossibly tighter because the possibility of having all of this back seems far too great; too good to be true and Zayn really doesn’t want to get his hopes up.

“I’m sorry,” Liam apologizes, scrunching his nose slightly at the sheer absurdity of the question. “That was a stupid question.” And then he’s looking at Zayn and laughing as he shrugs his shoulders in that ‘what can you do?’ sort of way and Zayn’s knees feel like they’re going to give out because everything Liam does is all so very Liam.

An awkward silence falls between them and Zayn doesn’t really know what to do about it so he shoves his hands into his pockets and kicks at the icy ground beneath his snow covered boots. He looks up through his lashes and catches Liam looking back at the man on the bench as if he’s making sure that he hasn’t been left behind and Zayn begins to wonder if he’s nothing more than a burden; if Liam only stopped him out of pity because he already knows just how much Zayn has literally longed for him over the past seven years.

And then Zayn just feels terrible because Liam would never do that. It simply isn’t in his nature because Liam is a good guy. He’s genuinely good and Zayn wants to kick himself in the face for even thinking such an awful thing about a person who had done nothing more than been honest with him the whole time they’d known each other.

He’d broken Zayn’s heart, sure, but it wasn’t like he meant to do it.

“So you’re just out for a walk?” Liam asks and Zayn can’t help but to smile lightly at his attempt to keep the conversation going.

Zayn shrugs and nods. “Yeah, I guess. Got tired of sitting around the house. Television can only keep you busy for so long, you know?”

“Yeah,” Liam answers with a small nod as he looks down at his shoes. There’s a short pause and Zayn knows there is something he wants to say; knows that look on Liam’s face – brows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line – that tells him that there are so many words caught in his throat that are just itching to come out but Liam is too afraid to let them slip.

Liam draws in a sharp breath and Zayn knows the words are coming. He’s going to say them before he has the chance to change his mind. “I’ve uh…” Liam looks up and rubs at the back of his neck as a nervous, breathy laugh pushes past his lips. His eyes are open and honest and so fucking sincere and Zayn really doesn’t know how much more he can take. “I’ve been meaning to call you, Zayn. You know I’ve… I’ve missed you and I’ve wanted to call you so many times to apologize and everything but—”

“I know, Liam, I know. Me too.” Zayn cuts him off because he doesn’t want Liam to finish his sentence.

He doesn’t really want to think about it because that’s just one door he kind of refuses to open. Zayn hates the memory of that night when shit hit the fan and everything he knew, everything he had, was sent down the drain and he was basically left with nothing. He hated thinking about the fact that Danielle found out and Liam ended up choosing her when he was faced with the decision.

Zayn hated knowing that he forced Liam to have to make that choice because good people shouldn’t be faced with such hardships.

The worst part of it all was that he’d known. He’d known that if, and when, it came down to it Liam would always choose Danielle. It was inevitable, really, and Zayn couldn’t really blame him. Danielle was beautiful and nice and safe and, worst of all, she made Liam happy. Zayn couldn’t deny the smile that lit up that boy’s face whenever she walked into a room.

And Liam had told him all of these things. Liam had told him that if it came down to it he’d always choose her. He’d told Zayn that he loved him, he really did, but he’d always love her more and Zayn been had been stupid enough to tell Liam that he didn’t care.

Zayn is looking at him now and Liam’s gaze is still directed at the ground. He wants him to look up. He wants to reach forward and place his fingers under Liam’s chin and force him to meet his eyes but because he knows better, because he knows he can’t, Zayn chooses to use his words instead.

“I wanted to call you too… but never to say I was sorry. I meant what I said back then, Liam. Every single word and I don’t regret it.”

As predicted, Liam’s head snaps back up. His shoulders suddenly grow tense causing his arms to turn rigid. He looks like he wants to push his hands all the way through his coat pockets. His cheeks adopt a darker shade of red causing the blossoms that had bloomed on his cheeks to disappear completely. This time the change lights up his face in an instant instead of gradually spreading over his features like water color.

“Zayn… that stuff that happened—.” He’s looking behind him as if to make sure nobody can hear them and Zayn’s heart is just aching now because he hates that Liam is ashamed. Any hope he’d had before is gone now because he knows he has no chance. There’s no way.

“It wasn’t just stuff, Liam,” Zayn responds and he can’t help but to sound disappointed because this boy still has his heart and he either doesn’t realize it or he simply doesn’t care. “It wasn’t just a trivial teenaged accident. You can’t blame it on that and you know it.”

“Zayn, look—”

“I have no fucking clue what made us stay apart for seven years. I mean I know you chose her, but that didn’t mean we had to stay apart for all this time. Maybe we were scared or in denial or… I don’t even know, but you called my name just now. You were happy to see me and you brought this whole thing up, so that has to mean something right? It has to.”

Liam is shaking his head, almost in a warning. “Zayn… please don’t do this.”

But Zayn is ignoring him because he’s on a roll. He’s getting all of these feelings off of his chest if it kills him and Liam’s embarrassment isn’t going to stop him.

He steps closer, his free hand closing around the lapel of Liam’s coat. It makes him twitch in brief surprise, but he otherwise remains still, his neck rigid and his jaw set. “When I said I’d always love you I wasn’t joking,” he says quietly, his eyes dropping to Liam’s mouth. They’re standing so close Zayn can feel the breath escaping Liam’s nose. He’d forgotten how perfectly they’d fit together, how easy it was to get lost in the warm, steady breath ghosting over his lips.

“You thought I was being overdramatic or that I didn’t know what I was talking about, but I was dead serious, Liam. I still am and I bet you could be too.”

“Zayn, just—just stop, okay?” Liam stutters although he still isn’t moving. He’s just standing there with his hands tucked into his pockets, his back arching away, but only slightly, as though it was all he could really manage. “Please… just stop.”

“The last time you used to word ‘stop’ it was because you were telling me not to.”

“That’s enough,” Liam snaps harshly and this time something finally jerks him out of the trance he’d been caught in. It’s as if someone had grabbed him by the collar and yanked him back because his hands are flying up and out of his pockets and planting them firmly on Zayn’s shoulders as if to push him away. But, at the last minute, he changes his mind and instead jumps back a step, balling his hands into fists and leaving them hanging at his sides.

“Liam…” Zayn begins, surprised at the sudden outburst because it’s so out of character.

“Jesus Christ, Zayn,” Liam spits furiously. He’s staring at him and it frightens Zayn how obviously angry he is because Liam doesn’t get mad at people. He’s always calm and cool and collected. He doesn’t shout and seethe and look at Zayn with eyes like this. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Zayn watches as his eyes wander the playground and he can’t help the wave of disappointment he feels when he realizes that Liam still doesn’t want people to know that they’re talking. He hates how Liam is afraid that people will actually see them together.

“Just…” he’s pushing the heels of his hands into his eyes now. “Just don’t do this, okay? Just don’t.”

Zayn isn’t sure of what to say in return. He wants nothing more than to be honest and tell Liam exactly what is in his head. He wants things to go back to the way they were because as much as he hated having to sneak around with Liam it was at least something. He had some part of that boy that nobody really got to know and even though he wasn’t able to shout it out for the entire world to hear, it was his.

But he can’t say that because it will only make Liam angrier and Zayn really doesn’t want to be hated. Not right now.

“Daddy?”

The word comes out of nowhere and cuts between them so suddenly that Zayn is unable to make it fit into the situation at hand. It’s like a gavel in a courtroom demanding their full attention. The pair of them tear their eyes away from each other and search for the source of the unexpected sound. Zayn adopts a look of puzzlement while Liam’s face is still stuck with that hard, angry expression. It takes another couple of seconds for Zayn to realize who the voice actually belongs to, but once he does the blood immediately rushes to his head with such speed it makes him feel dizzy.

The little girl is standing beside him.

The same little girl Liam had been chasing through the snow.

She stands there in her pink coat and red beret, looking up at Liam with wide, wondering eyes. Liam’s eyes.

“What’s wrong?” She’s asking. The peaks in her voice are forever girly and innocent like they all tend to be at that age.

Still dazed and confused, Zayn lifts his gaze and looks past Liam’s shoulder and in that moment the bigger picture begins to dawn on him. In the distance, Liam’s sister, Ruth, is approaching the frozen bench carrying four pretzels and holding the hand of another child, a boy about the same age as the inquiring child with the word ‘daddy’ clinging to her lips. At the same time as Ruth’s boyfriend walked over to meet her, another woman rose heavily from the bench. Zayn hadn’t really noticed her before, but she had been sitting on that very bench all this time and now she was following suit. He watched as she gracefully accepted the pretzel Ruth was offering her and Zayn hated to admit it but she was still just as beautiful as ever with that bright smile and wild curls.

“Nothing’s wrong, sweetie. Daddy’s just talking to an old friend.”

The hardened angry frown between Liam’s eyes has smoothed out and he lets out a short laugh as he adjusts the hat on his daughter’s head. In a movement he seemed to have performed a thousand times before, he’s reaching down and lifting the child gently, and balancing her against his hip.

And that’s when Zayn catches a glimpse of the golden band around his finger. A wedding band that sparkles in the bleak winter sun for a short-lived moment before it disappears beneath the fabric of the girl’s coat.

“She’s yours,” Zayn says quietly, his voice caught between asking a question and stating an obvious fact.

“Yeah, five whole years of fatherhood and counting.” Liam confirms smiling softly at his daughter. He looks back toward the bench where his sister, her boyfriend, and Danielle are gathered and enjoying their pretzels before looking back toward Zayn. “We have another one on the way too. Danielle will be two months next week.” Liam returns his attention to his daughter, uses his free hand to poke her nose causing her to giggle. “You’re going to be a big sister soon, aren’t you muffin?”

A jagged, painful throb pulses through Zayn’s heart as Liam’s daughter nods proudly confirming his prior confession. Even though he’s taking on a light, loving tone there was a cold and serious flatness to Liam’s voice that couldn’t be easily denied. He was out of reach now and he was practically rubbing it in Zayn’s face. He couldn’t get to him not matter how close he had ever come.

“Well she—she’s beautiful,” Zayn manages to say, nodding toward the girl in Liam’s arms as he swallows the lump in his throat all the while forcing himself to ignore the burning sensation in the corners of his eyes. “But I’m sure you already know that,” he adds under his breath with a quick smile. That girl had no choice but to be beautiful and Zayn knew it. With Liam as her father what else could she be?

“Can we go home now, Daddy?” She’s asking, her eyebrows pulling up to emphasize her insistent, almost whiny question. “I’m cold.”

Liam turns to him and shrugs apologetically and he once again looks so earnest and oh so very Liam that Zayn almost can bring himself to be angry with him.

“She’s right,” he agrees. “We should probably head back. My parents are expecting us all for dinner so…” He hesitates for a moment, biting his lip. “I’m sorry, Zayn,” he adds eventually. “It was good seeing you again. Take care of yourself.”

His words hold more weight than anyone listening in on the conversation would ever realize. It was I’m sorry for breaking your heart all those years ago and leading you to believe there was ever any hope for more. It’s I’m sorry you were never really able to move on. It’s an apology for ever even loving him at all.

What hurt’s even more is that he knows Liam means it. He knows that Liam really is sorry for everything that ever happened between them because he knows it was Zayn who was broken by it all in the long run. Perhaps Liam had known it would be Zayn drawing the short end of the stick all along.

But all Zayn really wants to say is “you don’t mean that, Liam. You don’t.” because he can’t bring himself to believe that it’s over; that when Liam walked away seven years ago that it was for good no matter how much he may have or could have loved him.

“Yeah,” Zayn says instead, nodding his head and forcing on a smile. He ignores the tears pricking the corners of his eyes. He doesn’t want to cry; doesn’t want to make Liam feel bad for breaking his heart because it really isn’t his fault.

It’s not until Liam is shifting the weight of his daughter on his hip that Zayn realizes that it had started to snow and he draws in a deep breath and, running a hand through his hair, says “Yeah. You too. Good luck, Liam.”

He doesn’t bother with much more of a goodbye because he doesn’t really think he could take hearing the word leave Liam’s mouth. It would be too much; too final. Liam was already walking away with a wife, two kids, and his heart in his back pocket and that was all Zayn could really take.

It’s not until he’s a good distance from the playground that Zayn lets the tears fall and even as they do he wipes them away because he doesn’t want to feel so pathetic. He can still see them though and he watches as Liam rejoins Danielle and the rest of his family. Zayn can’t help but to think that he should have known it would end this way because, when given the choice, it had always been Danielle. And, as much as he hated to admit it, it was a good choice because watching them from the outskirts of the playground and seeing the way he smiled as he wrapped an arm around her waist Zayn knew that Liam was happy.

And as much as he wishes that it could have been with him, that’s all he could really ask for.


End file.
